


You Have No  Idea

by IStillBelieve



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-30 19:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6437569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IStillBelieve/pseuds/IStillBelieve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Captain Jack Harkness says "You have no idea"....a little fluff, a little building on existing scenes, a lot of flirting.<br/>Don't own, don't profit, don't want to!</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Have No  Idea

5 Times Captain Jack Harkness said "You have no idea".

1\. The first time Ianto Jones met Captain Jack Harkness was in the woods at night, fighting a Weevil. He didn't get particularly close to the Captain, but when he reached out to touch a wound that was no longer there he could smell - it. Him. He didn't realize until their second meeting that the deliciously unforgettable aroma was Jack. The scent was amber and sandalwood and dust after rain and stars and whiskey and vanilla and sex and musk and lust and more sex. It literally made his mouth water and his skin feel too tight.  
But it wasn't until the night they caught the pteranodon in the warehouse that Ianto understood the true effects of Jack Harkness' scent. When Jack was preparing the hypodermic Ianto was the closest he had yet been to the Captain, and he found himself instantly erect. Their first attempt to burst through the door together had them almost touching, and he seriously had to concentrate to keep from coming in his pants. When they collapsed against the door Ianto's face was turned sideways into Jack's neck, and he blamed the prehistoric creature's excitability on Jack's aftershave - which it turns out, he wasn't wearing. "You smell like that naturally?" he had gasped, then wanted to die of embarrassment.  
"51st century pheromones", Jack had smirked. "You people have no idea".  
Ten minutes later, lying panting on top of Jack, laughing with adrenaline and accomplishment, lips achingly close and his own erection was pressing firmly against a rather impressive Harkness hard-on, he realized Jack was absolutely right. 

2\. Ianto Jones had never thought there would be so much dry cleaning at the Hub. Admittedly chasing aliens could get a bit messy, and there was no washer or dryer on the premises. But Owen, Tosh and Gwen had homes to go to, where supposedly they had access to washing facilities (although he wouldn't swear to it from the amount of clothes he handled on a weekly basis). At least Jack had an excuse. Living here in the Hub provided him with limited domestic opportunities. And frankly handling Jack's laundry was one of Ianto's secret pleasures. The heat and smell of the Captain seemed to cling to his clothes long after Jack tossed them in the floor or on his bed. 

His scent had driven Ianto to one of the few crimes of his adult life - he had stolen a shirt. Jack had an inordinate number of blue shirts, some identical; he knew exactly what blue did for his eyes. One afternoon while gathering laundry, Ianto had picked up one of the ubiquitous blue shirts and held it to his face. He inhaled pure Jack, and was immediately hard, and so he took it home and slept in it. A lot. It was an immediate cure for insomnia, or stress, or sorrow - and an amazing masturbation aid. He couldn't count the number of times he had slipped his arms into Jack's shirt and stroked himself to a blissful climax, always careful not to hit the shirt itself - he didn't want to be forced to wash that lovely scent away. 

On this particular morning Ianto was making his normal laundry rounds, ignored by everyone as they went about their beginning-of-day chores. He had already delivered coffee to Jack as he poured over a document in archives, barely glancing up, so he knew he was clear to go into Jack's room. He picked up his greatcoat from the chair where it had been tossed and suddenly, foolishly, buried his face in it. Warmth and spices and stars and Jack enveloped him, and the familiar heat hit him in his gut and sank to his groin. God. Ianto had spent his short life as a straight man, and this overwhelming desire for another man was so new and so startling. He laid his cheek briefly against the heavy wool, then hung it up and picked up the shirts draped over the bedpost. He wrapped his arms around them and pulled them to his face. "Fuck it all", he groaned softly, filling his lungs with Captain Jack Harkness. 

The scent was powerful, overwhelming...it was almost as if...Ianto froze. He could feel the Captain's long, hard heat inches from his back. "You're standing right behind me, aren't you sir?" he asked, very quietly. In response he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. He swayed slightly, and an arm snaked around his waist from behind. 

"Enjoying laundry day, Ianto?" Jack quipped in his ear. 

"I - I was -" he sighed. "51st century pheromones, sir. Very powerful".

Jack let his lips brush softly against Ianto's ear as he murmured "Ianto, you have no idea."

 

3\. Mortified at being caught playing Clint Eastwood, Ianto began to babble something about arming Rhys. "Hell no," said Jack."He's enough of a hot head already." 

Ianto agreed. "Like stags butting antlers - I half expected you to get out the measuring tape". Jack was down the stairs in two seconds, inches in front of him. He took Ianto's hand in his. With an absolute lack of discretion and monstrous self-confidence, he raised one eyebrow and said "Who do ya reckon would win?", placing Ianto's hand firmly against his semi-erect cock. He held it there for a moment, then slid it up slowly, allowing Ianto to feel the sheer length of him. He cocked his eyebrow higher for emphasis, then turned and bounded back up the stairs. 

Ianto stood frozen, then realized he was holding his breath and let it out in a whoosh. Good god, was the man always hard? "Oh I know exactly who would win," he muttered. His hand felt as if it was on fire, and he rubbed his palm.  
From the top of the stairs he heard a laugh, and turned his head to find Jack watching him from above. "Ianto Jones, you have no idea."

4\. Captain Jack Harkness watched him. His eyes seemed to find Ianto Jones in any room, any crowd, any situation. He followed every stretch and bend and twist of that tight little body, every form-fitting suit and immaculate bespoke shirt-and-tie combo, observed every tiny grin and raised eyebrow and witty comeback. He watched. And didn't care at all if Ianto caught him watching - in fact it just made him grin and made Ianto blush, sort of their little game. 

Tosh also watched, but she watched Jack watching. It concerned her a little at first, for Ianto - Jack was obviously miles out of his league. But the more she watched the more she realized Jack was still just observing, just leering and grinning that drop-dead-gorgeous grin. He really seemed to enjoy this waiting game, and was being surprisingly patient. One evening as she and Jack were going over some spikes on her monitor, she noticed his eyes were on Ianto, almost mesmerized as the young man stood perched on a box trying to shelve some files. "See something you like?" she muttered. "You can't get enough of that boy, can you?"

She expected an innuendo or three, but Jack looked at her, then back at Ianto with wistful eyes. "You have no idea, Toshiko."

5\. Weevil hunting had become almost a game, and they were all guilty of not taking them too seriously at times. Perhaps that's why this night had gone so horribly wrong. Ianto and Gwen were bleeding, Owen was cursing, and Jack was - dead. Pushed off a warehouse roof by an irate and out-of-control weevil who was now also dead. As Owen and Gwen worked to remove the evidence, Ianto raced to the pavement below, to Jack. He should be used to this whole dead thing by now, but he wasn't. His heart was pounding, his stomach tight knots and his breath catching in his throat by the time he got to Jack's limp, bent body. He dropped to his knees and pulled his Captain up against him, cradling him against his chest.  
He and Jack had a conversation once, under the influence of some lovely whiskey, about the 'coming-back-to-life' business, and Jack had confessed that it wasn't much fun. Death was painful, and the sudden gasping push back into life was almost as painful; it was also cold and disorienting and a little frightening at first. Ianto made a silent vow then not to let him wake up alone again, if he could help it.  
Jack's pale, cool skin was alarming. Ianto wrapped him tightly, pulling Jack's head under his chin, one hand stroking his hair. He wrapped his other arm along Jack's and took Jack's cool pulse-less hand in his own, squeezing it firmly. For that moment he didn't care what Jack would think to find himself in Ianto's arms, or what anyone would think if they happened by - only that he was here and that Captain Jack Harkness didn't come back from the abyss alone. Unbidden, he brushed his lips against the dark springy hair and whispered, as to a child, "It's okay, sir, everything's okay....I'm right here. I'm right here."  
He sensed life surge back though Jack's veins, a sudden thrum of energy and tension, followed by a gasp and a cough. Jack tried immediately to sit up."Shhhh, sir, it's okay, I've got you"...he murmured.

Jack woke to the always present shock of cold and pain and being shoved back into life like jamming a hand into a too-tight glove - but it was different. He immediately felt warmth and safe and - home. He felt warm lips murmuring against his temple as if he were a boy again, a hand was squeezing his firmly. It was - Ianto. Ianto's gorgeous lilt in his ear, Ianto's arms protecting him, cradling him. God. He was supposed to keep everyone else safe, and here he was being cared for and protected. It was - lovely. He turned his face into Ianto's neck, lips brushing against that warm, strong pulse. "Ianto - what- I don't understand."

Ianto was glad Jack couldn't see his face. "Well, sir, you may have mentioned that the trip back from - umm - death, as it were, is not that pleasant. I thought maybe - that is, I was trying to make it - not so - unpleasant." Jeez, did he have to stammer like a schoolboy around this man?  
Jack pulled back just far enough to look at the younger man's face. Ianto was blushing slightly but held his glaze, very serious and intent on doing the right thing here. "Is that so?" he said with a gentle smile.  
"Yes, yes sir. I mean - I hope I helped. Was it - was it better, like this? Not alone, I mean?" he faltered.  
"Oh, Ianto - you have no idea."


End file.
